


Not Just A Pretty Face

by TheIskraeon



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PROM IS INCREDIBLE AND I LOVE HIM DEARLY, Prince!Prompto AU, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 22:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10292018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIskraeon/pseuds/TheIskraeon
Summary: You were never supposed to make your people upset.So Prompto made the sacrifices.Just like this one.





	1. We are at War

He’d always been fragile; too fragile to run a kingdom but so perfectly breakable that the public fell for him. He’d been flaunted but only for his smile; crowds had screamed his name but only because he would wave at them.

At the end of the day they didn’t care who he really was, because he was royalty. He was glitz and glamour and the public didn’t want the pain beneath the skin, the nights spent tossing and turning because he had refused to eat. Because food had sickened him. No they wanted a cheerful Prince that had money and good looks with a sweet personality to boot.

They wanted perfect.

He wasn’t perfect.

Perfect was a picture taken from the roof of their castle, a picture of the pink hue that the sun’s last rays of the day shone through, spreading across the land of Niflheim and chasing away the shadows and darkness that scared him. Perfect was his grandmother’s butterfly cupcakes, filled with cream and finished with wings carved expertly by shaking hands. Perfect was the days without the crown banging his eyelids as he tried his best.

Prompto shakes his head wearily as he buttons up the last stark white piece of his ensemble. Purity. Perfection. Prompto. He grimaced. He wasn’t perfect, but he was meant to be. So he played it. Played it for the public to console them, because if they knew that their dear, angelic Prince handled guns better than anyone in the kingdom they would throw a fit. If they knew that he starved himself on bad days they would cry, and you were never supposed to make your people upset.

So he made the sacrifices.

Just like this one.

Uniting the two kingdoms; Nifleheim and Lucis. It was a ground-breaking day. When Prompto had been told that he was to marry a man he had never met he felt sorrow. Mournful over the fact that he had just killed Noctis Lucis Caelum’s bloodline. He knew that the Prince would smile for the public, for their wedding day but he would never smile at Prompto.

Prompto dug his nails into his arms, chiding himself the way his brother would if he were by his side now. There was no point in reading a book he had never laid eyes on; he would come to his conclusions on the Prince of Lucis and their…future together later. For now he had to play perfect. Smile. Wave. The usual routine. Bat those blue eyes at the cameras and hold himself together until he was alone where he could fall apart.

He felt bad for Noctis. Having to marry someone like him, someone like Prompto Argentum…Maybe he was nice! Prompto desperately tried to pull himself out of his dark thoughts, maybe the Prince would share his love of video games! He had to stay positive, even if for a short while. It made smiling easier.

The door behind him banged open abruptly and Prompto yelped. Startled he turned around to face one of the guards who leaned against the door, out of breath and red in the face.

“Your Highness..” He panted. 

“Yes?” Prompto asked in a timid and gentle voice that usually soothed the staff’s nerves. The guard looked up, a pained expression carved into his face and Prompto frowned.

“Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum has rejected your hand in marriage, Niflheim is taking this course of action as an end to the peace Niflheim and Lucis had achieved, we…” The guard took a breath to steady himself, rising slowly like a wave in a stormy sea, “we are at war Your Highness.”

Oh.


	2. If Only

Noctis curled in on himself under the covers, hiding from the bane of his existence and symbol of eternal torment in his life. Sunlight. He groaned as it managed to seep through the blankets and pry at his tired eyes; when he was King he would ban sunlight…and mornings. 

The door burst open into his room and he heard the exasperated sigh that was released. He knew immediately who it was.

“Go away Ignis.” He mumbled and pulled the covers more tightly around him. There was silence for a moment and Noct had just started to think that the Astrals were finally smiling down upon him when a set of quick foot-steps sounded and he felt his whole world shift. The blankets were pulled out from around and underneath him, sending him toppling over the edge of his bed and onto the cold marble floor.

“The hell Ignis?!” He snapped as his advisor made his way to the curtains, throwing them open and blinding Noct in the process.

“Apologies, your Highness,” Noct could hear the smug-ass smirk on Ignis’ face, “but it’s eleven already. There’s much to be done.”

Noctis sighed and picked himself up off the floor.

“Anymore news from Nifleheim?” He asked warily, mentally scolding himself when he heard Ignis release a weary sigh.

“Just your marriage Noctis, I do not believe that’s going to change anytime soon.” Noct nodded in reluctant agreement before shuffling off to the bathroom, ignoring Ignis calling after him. Saying something about how he needed to pick up his feet.

Meh.

-

Political meetings were always boring. Same old droning voices. Same old complaints that Noct knew his father was desperately chasing already; it wasn’t as if they were ignoring the public, it’s just that there’s only ONE King. Only ONE person to deal with all the problems. The Crystal gave them powers yes, but not the powers necessary to fix every little thing in one night.

The meeting was called to a close and Noct had to bite the inside of his cheek from exhaling a sigh of relief. His gaze met Ignis’ who frowned at him as if scolding him for even considering the action. 

Noctis had been about to attempt a subtle roll of his eyes (like his father did) when the doors to the meeting hall were thrown open by an out of breath guard. The Prince of Lucis rose immediately, eyes furrowing in concern.

“What’s wrong?” He winced inwardly at how informal he sounded in front of the gathered politicians but after hearing the next words fall from the guard’s mouth, he found he couldn’t care less.

“Nifleheim has taken Tenebrae, your Highness. The Oracle is in Nifleheim hands.”

Luna.

He was well aware of the fact that it wasn’t ‘princely’, or whatever else kind of bullshit Ignis was spewing at the moment, to be storming down the Citadel’s hallways, but he honestly didn’t care. He threw the doors open to his father’s study and stood red faced and angered in the doorway as Clarus, Cor and his father all looked up with stunned faces.

“So it’s true? Nifleheim’s got Luna?” He asked. Formality be damned.

“Prince Noctis-”

“Is. It. True?” He demanded, ignoring Clarus’ interjection and instead opting for staring his father dead in the eyes. There was nothing but strained silence until his father removed his gaze, bowing his head to the many documents and reports that laid upon his desk.

“Yes.”

Noct took in a sharp breath, turning on his heel to storm out of the room as abruptly as he had stormed in.

“Noctis.” 

He paused, glancing over his shoulder to meet his father’s steely gaze.

“We should not make rash decisions.”

That. That right there. The Kingly attitude when Luna, Luna, was in danger. He snapped, not bothering to measure his anger carefully for the witnesses in the room.

“So what?! We just leave Luna to rot in Tenebrae? You’ve seen what they’ve done to the other nobles, they’re going to bleed Tenebrae dry. Luna included!”

“Noctis,” his father rose and Noctis gulped as he watched his father turn into King Regis, “I am more than aware of the consequences of Nifleheim’s actions but we cannot march onto the city blind.”

Noct drew in a deep breath and tried his best to match the King, turning from Noct to Prince Noctis of Lucis. Heir to the Throne.

“The wedding. Is called off. I won’t marry some Nif Prince when Luna is in danger.” He hissed and stomped out the room, refusing to hear any and all arguments made against him.

-

He was surprised, to say the least, to find out that his father had obeyed his wishes and cancelled the wedding. There were going to be meetings. So many meetings; discussing what to do, when to do it. Noct had even heard the staff talking about a possible meeting with Nifleheim in a last ditch effort to re-establish the peace after the slap in the face Prince Noctis had delivered to them.

He’d never wanted to marry anyway. At least, not a Prince from Nifleheim. He knew he loved Luna; he loved her with all his heart and it hurt him to know that with each passing day she was slipping further and further into the enemies hands.

He looked out his bedroom window and glared at the horizon where he knew Nifleheim lay. He would get Luna back. He would get her somewhere safe, and then they could deal with whatever else comes next.

-

Prompto sat in the garden, idly passing time. He was trying so hard to look like the rejection hadn’t bothered him too much, trying not to reveal that ever present weakness to the public. To his family. But it was so hard.

A person he had never met; a person he had thought could maybe sympathise with his upbringing, had completely and utterly rejected him. And he hadn’t even been told why.

He felt so disconnected from the world and his people. He stood and smiled for them, he provided his presence and it seemed to lift their spirits but he wanted to do more. The real question was…was he capable of doing more?

“No.” He whispered to himself before kneeling in front of the freshly planted hydrangeas, toying with their petals and leaves. Desperately trying to lose himself in their vibrant hues and failing. He couldn’t do more for his people. For his family. For Ifrit’s sake, he couldn’t even seem the tiniest bit appealing to a foreign Prince!

As he lifted the camera to snap a quick picture he found himself wishing he couldn’t feel. Wishing he wasn’t so sensitive to the simple things. Wishing he couldn’t feel the wasted tears running down his cheeks, crying for someone he’d never met and never would meet.

If only he was so much better than this.

If only…


	3. Brotherly Excursion

Prompto pulled the hood further over his face and continued to hurry further down the busy streets. It had been only a couple of days since Nifleheim and Lucis had gone to war for the second time, people were conscripted and sent away from their families. Even now, Prompto winced at the sight of family members having sad little send-offs outside of their tiny houses. Surrounded by friends and family.

He didn’t want to send them off to war.

He didn’t want war.

Peace was a nice ideal but the feud that hung heavy over both Lucis and Nifleheim; their blood-soaked history, it appeared to be too much for the current rulers to ignore. What were they even fighting for anyway? His mother and father kept him out of political meetings but educated him on the ways of their nation nonetheless. 

He wasn’t stupid though. He could tell the documents he studied were censored. He could tell that he was only a trophy of sorts, a symbol of perseverance for the public. He didn’t usually like to venture out on his own either (what with the whole 14 assassination attempts over the years) but he wasn’t going to be alone soon. Soon he would be with one of the best soldiers and strongest people he had ever known.

His brother. Loqi.

Prompto hurried along until he looked up and lit up. A beaming, genuine smile protruding onto his face as he saw the cafe and the surprisingly relaxed figure sat outside at one of the iron-wrought tables. He walked a bit closer before waving slightly. Loqi waved back, a small smirk toying with his lips.

When Prompto was within the cafe border and close enough, Loqi stood up and swept him into his trademark crushing hug.

“N-Nice to see you too!” Prompto grunted as he desperately tried to suck in more air.

“Holy Eos, it's been ages!” Loqi released him with a sigh and sat down, gesturing for Prompto to do the same who stood for a moment longer, readjusting his hoodie.

“How have you been? Any news?” Prompto asked. He couldn’t rely on mother or father for military updates (case in point: censorship) but Loqi never held back; this was almost a flaw for the older brother but one that Prompto didn’t mind exploiting (mainly because Loqi didn’t mind either).

“We’ve taken Tenebrae.”

“What? Why?” Prompto frowned, confused. Loqi watched as his brother tilted his head (like a fricken chocobo) before conceding to his demands.

“Two reasons. Firstly, it was a pathetic jab at how Lucis, you know how mother and father are, spiteful down to the last nerve,” (he didn’t fail to notice how Prompto gave a tiny wince at that), “secondly, because the Oracle possesses tremendous power. You’ve heard of Lady Lunafreya’s excursions surely?”

“She heals those who can’t afford potions, right?”

“Yup. Basically, Nifleheim wants to see if we can get her to heal our own people.” He concluded with a stir of his coffee before delicately wiping the spoon on the rim of the cup and taking a sip.

“You mean our army?” Prompto asked, his frown showing how desperate he was to catch up with the information he was lacking.

“Nah, our army’s fine. Any of the Soldiers get injured and we can take them back to the lab, tinker with ‘em a bit; they’ll be right as rain before ya know it.” 

Prompto smiled to himself as he listened to Loqi’s change in tone and drop of accent. It was nice. It must be for him too. To be away from the front-line. Away from the labs, the Soldiers.

“So who’s the healing for?” He asked, reaching over and stealing a chunk of Loqi’s blueberry muffin.

“Hey!” Loqi huffed but Prompto shoved the food into his mouth and gave him a shit-eating grin. Blueberry muffin stuck between his teeth.

“Whosh it fhor?” He mumbled between bites.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, and it’s for our everyday citizens. Something about raising morale.” Loqi waved dismissively.

“It’s also an offer Lady Lunafreya can’t refuse.” Prompto analysed after swallowing. Loqi allowed his eyes to widen slightly before nodding slowly in agreement.

“To deny our citizens would be a denial to her duty.”

“We’ve pushed her into a corner.” Prompto muttered. Loqi set his cup down with a furrow of his eyebrows before reaching over and grasping one of Prompto’s hands.

“It’s not us Prompto. We’re just following orders.”

“But we can still do something about it…can’t we?”

“Not yet.” Loqi sighed, falling back into his chair and scanning the streets. The quiet murmurs of passing conversations and bouts of joyful laughter graced his ears; a welcome change from the scream of metal on metal and the bellows of their programmed demons smashing Lucian soldiers underfoot. Their guts and innards spurting outwards and flying into the air, a streak of blood splashing him across the face. Dirtying his name, his honour as a human being-

Prompto placed a hand on his shoulder. Loqi started. When had he moved? He looked up to see Prompto smiling reassuringly at him, the sun behind creating the perfect halo and depicting a holiness and wonder that Prompto would never be able to see in himself. That only Loqi could see because he was the only who ever bothered to know Prompto like this. Gods, even their parents-

A gentle squeeze of his shoulder had those thoughts running away and left Loqi chasing after his younger brother’s sunny smile; trying to use it’s brightness to wash away the darkness of war within him.

“Wanna go window shopping?”

Loqi hummed, picking his cup and taking a final slurp of his drink (effectively downing it in one go that terrified the waitress nearby) before standing and pulling Prompto’s hand off his shoulder and grasping by his side.

“Lead the way.”


	4. Better Tomorrows

He hadn’t known how he had ended up in this position, and Loqi wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not. 

Family dinners had always been…particularly difficult.

This one was no exception, especially considering the fact that not all the family was present. Loqi looked up from his meal and observed his brother floundering with his cutlery and their father daintily avoiding his sons worried gazes. Loqi waited and watched, timing himself until a minute had passed. It was then, and only then that he did what he did best.

He made a scene.

Loqi stood up abruptly, his chair screeching at the sheer force of propulsion, before slamming his cutlery down onto the mahogany surface of the table, causing not only his wine glass to jump but his brother as well.

“Remind me again why we’re going to war?”

Their father slowly drew his gaze to his son, continuing to chew his food like molasses until eventually swallowing. He allowed a grin to be pulled onto his face as he noted the vein on his son’s forehead popping oh so slightly.

“Because of the rejection to peace from the Lucian kingdom.” He replied gently, as if Loqi were still a child. The tone caused his oldest son to grunt in a frustrated manner before flopping back into his chair without an ounce of grace that his royal lineage expected of him.

“Ifrit’s toes. I’d stake my whole Justice Monsters trading cards set on that being complete and utter chocobo shit.” 

Prompto elicited a snort before silencing himself and focusing on his food, poking it with his silver fork. Their father turned his passive face away from his youngest child and back to Loqi.

“It is one of many reasons.”

Loqi narrowed his gaze in defiance and their father sighed, setting down his knife and fork and lounging back in his chair.

“It’s no secret we have never had the best relationship with Lucis, and after the recent dismissal of peace it has been decided the Nifleheim cannot simply stand around and wait forever.”

Loqi held his insistent and pressing gaze, and he could tell that even Prompto was looking at him with curious and scared eyes. He sighed before waving a hand dismissively as he delivered the final words.

“We have decided to invade Lucis.”

Everything froze in the room, even the air. Any appearance of familial composure was instantly widened as Loqi’s jaw dropped and Prompto loosened his grip on his cutlery, allowing it to slip and fall to the floor with a decisive clatter. Their father did not meet their gaze but he didn’t release his kingly composure either.

“Y-You’re kidding right?”

He lifted his face to meet Prompto’s terrified expression and took in its raw emotion. Such pure horror and fear mixed with…betrayal? He frowned at that. Prompto flinched at the frown and sudden intense focus on his presence; he let his gaze slip away from his father and busied himself with picking up his knife and fork.

“Perhaps we should discuss this at a later date.” He quipped coldly. 

Loqi’s shock morphed into fury and he slammed the table, forgetting to note how Prompto flinched at the loud noise.

“Fuck no! We’re talking about this here and now!” He demanded.

“We will talk about this,” Their father announced, no longer simply suggesting or offering but ordering them, his eyes not-so-subtly drifting over Prompto as if that would be a satisfactory explanation for his silence (it just made Loqi’s blood boil even more), “later.”

Loqi made to speak but their father turned on his heel and exited the hall. Loqi fell to his chair, exhausted of emotion, and watched as Prompto resurfaced. All sunshine faded from his face as he placed his cutlery on the table and sat down neatly.

“…Sorry.” He mumbled. Loqi huffed in annoyance and, ignoring his cutlery and manners, picked up the chicken leg on his plate and tore into it.

“It’s not your fault.”

“If I had just left-”

“No! You deserve to know what’s going on in your own godsdamn kingdom. He’s just an uptight ass.” He smirked as he heard Prompto stifle a rude snort.

“Thanks Loqi.” 

Loqi raised his eyebrows in surprise as a gentle smile (that only his brother could coax out of him) graced his face.

“You don’t have to thank me Prompto, I simply have eyes and can see the brain underneath all that,” he waved vaguely at Prompto’s head, “chocobo-butt….fluff…seriously what style is that?”

“My hair does NOT look like a chocobo-butt!”

Loqi snorted.

“Sure.”

-

Noctis laced his shoes up as he attempted to block out Ignis’ lecture. He threw a glance at Gladio who met his frustrated eyes with an amused snort before clapping one of his giant hands on the Prince’s shoulder.

“Iggy, enough. We ready to go?” Gladio asked and Ignis quickly snapped his mouth shut, frowning slightly in that Mona Lisa way he did best, before replying.

“I suppose we are well equipped.”

“Cool.” Noctis stated as he lifted himself off the Citadel steps and continuing the walk down towards the Regalia.

“Noctis.”

He turned, tilting his head in confusion as he saw his father shuffling down the steps slowly with Clarus by his side.

“What now?”

“Noct.” Gladio chided softly but Noctis ignored him and walked to meet his father.

“I fear I have I left too much unsaid.”

Noctis smiled softly and watched as his father matched it.

“I know I cannot convince you to not do this, to simply leave this to the Glaives,” Noctis nodded at that, “and I also know how much this means to you. How much Luna means to you.”

Noctis blushed and fumbled over words before turning and snapping at Gladio who had laughed lightly. He was about to (gently) punch the man (behemoth) when he felt a hand place itself on his shoulder; he turned back with a concerned frown as he saw his father take on a serious gaze.

“You must be careful with your actions, if you falter it will effect the course of the war.” He paused and waited for Noctis to nod in acknowledgement before continuing, “When you find Luna, I pray that you two make it to safety and come to know great happiness.”

Noctis blushed again, more lightly this time, but his father’s suggestions still left him flustered. Regis smiled slightly before straightening his aching back and squeezing Noctis’ shoulder. Noctis met his father’s gaze hesitantly.

“Walk tall, my son.”

Noctis smiled and nodded.

“You too.” He replied cheekily before ducking away and walking with Ignis and Gladio to the Regalia. Regis was quiet as he watched his son depart, his eyes softening the further his son walked.

“Do you really believe this is the best choice?”

Regis met Clarus’ concerned eyes and smiled reassuringly.

“We shall wait and see.”

-

Prompto huffed as he sat on his mattress, turning his gaze towards the large window where bright moonlight flowed through. It’s white rays stretching out to meet him. He lifted his feet away from their reach and curled up on the bed, placing his head delicately on the pillow.

Tomorrow he would smile again (but not for his own sake)

Tomorrow he would set off with Loqi to the city of Tenebrae (they’d hate him, he already knows they will)

Tomorrow he would meet Lady Lunafreya (she was supposed to be nice but he wouldn’t blame her for beheading him)

His stomach grumbled loudly and he clamped an arm around it, he knew he hadn’t eaten much for dinner but he couldn’t swallow it today. Couldn’t even chew it properly without becoming disgusted at the texture. He sighed. Two bad days in a row (Loqi had made it better). Two wrongs made a right. Right?

He sighed and slid his eyes shut.

Tomorrow would be better. He’d make sure of it.


End file.
